


Lover's Desire

by ficme



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Brief mention of drug/alcohol abuse by Persephone, F/M, Novelization, POV Retelling, cuts off right before it gets too sad, ends real tender, hades pov, starts out angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 18:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficme/pseuds/ficme
Summary: When he taunted the boy into singing for him and the rest of his hellish audience, Hades could not have predicted just how deeply the poets words were going to affect him. How could he have possibly known that Orpheus was destined to change everything?**This fic is a novelization of Chant II, Chant (Reprise), and Lover’s Desire, all told from Hades’ perspective. The lyrics quoted below (bolded and italicised) come directly from the Hadestown Original Broadway Cast Recording, and were written by the incomparable Anaïs Mitchell. I do not claim any ownership of the source material, as I am merely borrowing the song lyrics to assist in my personal retelling.**





	Lover's Desire

It all started when a boy,  _ the  _ boy, had the audacity to sneak past his wall and break into his kingdom, bending his workers’ ears in the process, by singing a tale of heartbreak and woe so powerful that it somehow inspired his captors to momentarily shirk their duties and listen. The boy’s untamed idealism was poisonous, and each victim his words infected left them with the most inconvenient of afflictions: individual thought and reason. After the initial confrontation, Hades had not deigned to spare the boy a moment more of his consideration, and watched with an unaffected stare as the intruder was taken away in a flurry of powerful blows, trusting that his indentured servants would remain obedient to their king’s demands out of both contractual obligation and fear of similar repercussions be enacted upon them should they assist the boy in any manner.

It was reasonable for him to assume that his employees remained loyal to their master, as they had not once dared to defy him in the past. This notion rapidly came crashing down around him, however, the moment Hades stepped out of his office, and into the vast caverns that made up his domain. He had just removed himself from yet another irritating argument with his wife, but this time, instead of her nagging complaints about how he ran his business operations, she jumped to the defense of the poet ( _ Orpheus _ , she had called him) and begged that Hades exhibit compassion and grant him and his wife their freedom. Why should he let the boy go? Why should he care that he broke into his previously impenetrable kingdom for love and love alone? It was not his fault the poet’s wife was so easily swayed from his side by the promise of food, job security, and tales of wealth beyond measure. He was a businessman first and foremost, and this woman - Eurydice - should’ve known what she was getting herself into when she signed his contract, no coercion necessary (it never was). These were the thoughts racing through his mind and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth when he finally noticed it: the deafening silence that befell the hot air around him. Persephone came rushing to his side, drinking in the lack of noise for the first time since he opened the doors to his kingdom and the factories below.

“What’s going on?” She asked quietly, her voice unnaturally salient without the muffled roar of machinery that typically whirred in the background at any given hour. Hades thought hard on her question. Silence could only mean one thing: that the machines responsible for his fortune had all been powered down. The machines not running meant that the workers -  _ his _ workers - had forgone their orders and abandoned their posts. And when workers refuse their orders, it spells certain disaster. The very disaster Hades had sought to avoid since monetizing his deadly domain:  _ A riot. _

Hades felt the familiar heat of anger swell inside of his chest, warming his face and causing it to redden with rage.  ** _“IT’S THE BOY!”_ ** In hindsight, he figured he should have known better than to leave his workers to enact justice on Orpheus unsupervised. What was that mortal adage?  _ ‘If you want something done correctly, you have to do it yourself?’ _ But then what had he been training his workers for, if not carrying out his orders without room for error or misinterpretation?  _ ‘Disappointments, all of them’ _ Hades cursed them in his thoughts.

“What are you going to do, husband?” His wife asked, not bothering to mask the worry that drenched each syllable and made her voice waver. Hades scoffed at this question; surely whatever he did would be fully within his rights as king, and his kingdom had a clear set of rules where his punishments were always befitting of the crime. The penalty for trespassing mean certain death in these parts, but in a rare moment of weakness, Hades had chosen instead to have Orpheus roughed up a bit (just enough to be sure his message sank in) and thrown in a cell, where he would stew until he begged to leave Hadestown alone, promising not to return until it was his time. Hades had thought this a merciful decision at the time, after all, the boy had not attempted to steal anything of value, and was not under any contract, therefore rendering him naive of the laws that governed the land. But now, Hades stewed over the fact that his rare show of restraint may have very well brought about the means to his downfall. Mortals always were a fickle bunch, and when faced with hope, they had the habit of becoming dangerous.

_ ‘What would he do?’ _ his wife’s question echoed in his head.  _ ‘It’s simple,’ _ he thought, and a cruel smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. They boy obviously wanted something impossible from him, and it seemed that he would not quit trying to gain an audience with The King until Hades heard him out in full. Breaking the silence once more, Hades spoke clearly in his sinister drawl, “I’ll wait.”

The boy made it to his throne room in mere moments, but he was not, as Hades foolishly hoped, alone. Eurydice and the other workers followed behind him, backs straight, a sense of unity alight in their eyes. No one dared speak as Orpheus took a shaky step towards the king, everyone holding their breath in equal measures of fear and anticipation.

The question that finally passed the boys lips was quite unexpected.  ** _“Is it true?”_ ** he asked. Not “it’s not fair,” not “why can’t I leave with her.” No, his question was directed to Hades alone, and it issued a challenge. Those three simple words held unfathomable meaning. It questioned the very foundation of fate itself, the very foundation that Hades had used to enact his laws and erect an empire. But hadn’t he once promised to reject the role of fate in his own life, when he chose to thrive in the dark underworld and keep company, rather than resign to a life of loneliness and depression predicted by the gods when he was forced to take up his mantle below so many millennia ago?

The workers, emboldened by Orpheus’ simple yet powerful inquiry began to pipe up with their own concerns.  ** _“Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?” “Why do we build the wall and then call it freedom?” “If we’re free, tell me why, I can’t look in my brother’s eye?”_ **

Hades felt like he was drowning in the cacophonous cries of his contractual charges, their enraged symphony growing rapidly in intensity, and he soon found himself longing for the silence he had dreaded from moments before. He needed to say something,  _ anything _ , to regain control of this spiraling situation and reassert his dominance over his employees.  ** _“Young man!”_ ** he roared, taking the startled pause as his chance to continue,  ** _“I’ve got to hand it to you, guess you don’t scare easy do you? Are you brave, or stupid son?” _ ** It didn’t matter which one, as all Hades needed was to shock the boy into silence long enough that he could impart his godlike wisdom on the boy, so that all who bore witness to this event would know how and why his words were law.

Hades caught his wife out of the corner of his eye, frozen one step between his side and Orpheus’. There was a deep sorrow etched into her face, as if she truly felt for the boy, but was unsure of what to do in this tenuous moment. Persephone had just finished telling him of Orpheus’ plight, how he came here for love, how Hades had ripped Eurydice from his arms right after their union. To him, Eurydice had simply been a distraction, someone to play with while he and his wife were not on speaking terms, a songbird to brighten up the dour mines around him. To the boy, Persephone had explained, she was the gift of life itself, his reason for existing in a world that was too often cold and cruel. How foolish this boy was, for thinking that love alone could keep the girl by his side, when even Persephone, who was so in love with Hades at one point that they created the seasons from it, would still eagerly abandon him come Spring each year? Hades now knew his plan of attack, he would need to convince Orpheus that the only true way to ensure a partner’s fidelity is to shower them in riches and restrict their freedom. If a woman has everything she desires waiting at home, why would she need to venture out into the cold, cruel world alone? As he recited these guidelines to the boy as the irrefutable truths of love, he saw his wife shake her head in quiet disapproval. No matter, Hades knew his logic was sound, as he had built an entire workforce from these premises.

Orpheus proved not be so easily convinced, however, and he easily retorted with a rallying cry that boasted both the virtues of strength in camaraderie and freedom of choice as the means to forgo the cruel fate that currently dictated their roles. The workers joined in once again, voices banding together in a deafening harmony that showed they still believed in what the boy was preaching.

This little display of insubordination had gone on long enough, and Hades’ famous well of patience had run dry. He held up his hand in a gesture that meant _‘stop’_ and the chorus quieted down once more. Tension squared his shoulders, as he prepared one final gambit. **_“Young man, I was young once too, sang a song of love like you,”_** he began, carefully crafting his tale to parallel that of the lovesick poet. See how he had already tried things the boy’s way and it didn’t work? See how love and a song wasn’t enough to put food on the table and care for his family? See how only by harnessing the precious earth around him was he able to build a kingdom that could provide for his people? He chose to end his comparison with a full display of his raw power, to let the boy truly see who he was up against and just how hard his idealism would fail him. He looked only to Orpheus, as if they were alone, and raised both arms to his side in a display that indicated _‘even without weapons or words, look what I can do.’_ **_“Young man, you can strum your lyre,”_** he gestured to instrument the boy carried with him as if it were an extension of his body, **_“I have strung the world in wire,”_** he gestured to the walls around them, where neon and fluorescent lights flickered and lit up the otherwise dark underworld with a dull hum. He looked back to Orpheus, and readied his final blow, **_“Young man, you can sing your ditty,”_** a deep breath and a bellow, **_“I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!”_** The powerful boom of his true voice sent a shockwave through the air, making the earth quake beneath them, and the lights glared blindingly for a moment before burning out completely with an audible “pop”, allowing for total darkness to envelop the room. This earned him a handful of screams, a few hushed murmurs, and even some muffled sobs. He let the crowd marinate in their panic a few seconds longer, before finally snapping his fingers, and the lights blinked back on and returned to their normal hue.

Being a mere mortal confronted by the awesome, unrestrained power of divinity, Hades had expected Orpheus to be taken completely aback, and possibly be left kneeling before him in deference when the lights returned. But the boy stood unmoved, and was remarkably striving to reign in his fear before the god of the dead.  _ ‘Any mortal unworthy of my time would have run,’ _ Hades considered,  _ ‘yet here he still stands, without having given away any ground.’ _ He squinted his eyes in deep thought,  _ ‘this boy is clearly not going anywhere, I guess it’s time to admit to a stalemate and reward his bravery by hearing his personal demands. It’s not like anything will come of it anyhow, and he will have to work for it like none before.’ _

Hades took a deep breath and smiled, holding his palms out in resignation, and issued his impossible challenge. The boy wanted his wife’s contract nullified and for her to return home with him? He would have to sing for it.  ** _“I’ll tell you what young man,”_ ** Hades looked towards Persephone, confusion spread plain across her face at the fact that her husband had not yet struck the boy down for good,  ** _“since my wife is such a fan, and since I’m gonna count to three and put you out of your misery...”_ **

Ah, the threat of death that would spell failure, that’s what finally broke the boys resolve and had his hands shaking at his side as he swallowed a lump in his throat.  _ ‘Good, let him be afraid,’ _ Hades thought as he continued his list of demands in a mock singsong voice,  ** _“One!) Give me one more song, one more song before I send you; Two!) To the great beyond where nobody can hear you singing; Three!) Sing a song for me. Make me laugh! Make me weep. Make the king feel young again. Sing! For an old man...”_ **

The challenge issued and the terms laid bare, Orpheus gave a slight nod of acceptance and Hades took a seat at his throne, waiting before gods and men for what would undoubtedly be the amusing (if not futile) performance of a lifetime to begin. Hades was an old man, and he was sure that he had heard every excuse and desperate plea a mortal could offer, almost all having been in the name of love. There was still a nagging voice inside that reminded him that boy had managed to sway his wife, however, but Hades also knew that he’d be much more difficult audience to impress. His wife’s mind was addled with centuries of drug and alcohol abuse, and despite her coldness towards him in recent years, deep-down she had always been soft. It was what made him first fall in love with her many moons ago. Hades was the opposite, always introspective and in complete control of his emotions. He was the rock upon which the foundations of his empire stood. He had no room for pity or remorse, lest his precious kingdom come crashing down around him. Orpheus started to sing.

His words were soft at first, shaky and full of nerves. Hades heard his one of his titles  ** _“King of shadows, King of shades”_ ** through the boy’s shuddering vocals, and couldn’t help but taunt him.

** _“Oh, it’s about me?”_ ** He teased, arms crossed to show just how unimpressed he was so far. This heckle only served to emboldened the boy, however, and his lyrics grew louder, more melodious, more beautiful as the boy played on.

It was then that Hades started listening in earnest in spite of himself, being the song’s subject had a way of drawing out his undivided attention. He sat, silently now, as the boy’s words painted a picture of the underworld that surrounded them, each verse touching on a specific part of the cavernous world that stretched onward, forever, in every direction. Hades’ imagination accompanied the words as they entered his head, and betrayed him as twisted images began to form, corrupting the visions of things he was once so proud of into something distorted and wrong. His cool exterior began to break from the torment of the boy’s melodies. He was ill prepared for what came next, as Orpheus looked him dead in the eyes and recited a simple string of sounds, a melody,  _ HIS  _ melody.  ** _“La, la la laa, la la laaa.”_ **

Hades stood with a start, fear and recognition moving him to speak,  ** _“Where’d you get that melody?!”_ **

He had started to make his way towards the poet in a fit of panic, when his wife stepped out of the shadows, and begged with a softness wrought with heartache that stopped him dead in his tracks,  ** _“Let him finish, Hades.”_ ** With Persephone at his side once more, no venom in her voice for the first time in many long years, he felt his anxiety die at once, a powerful yearning taking its place.

As if he expected this exchange to take place, the boy began to sing of something he believed no mortal would dare comment upon: the relationship he had with his wife. Hades suddenly felt lost, not because the poet’s words were false, but because they were true, which cut through his defenses and struck him right at his sensitive core. The song embodied all of his feelings on love, loss, and betrayal. The feelings that he kept locked deep inside, never daring to speak them aloud. He looked towards his wife in desperation, and could see that the boy’s words were stirring something inside her as well. In this moment of defenselessness, Hades was overcome with the urge to reach out and call for Persephone, to hold her in his arms, and tell her that they would be okay. That they could make it work. That he would try harder.

** _“Where is the treasure inside of his chest? Where is your pleasure, where is your youth? Where is the man, with his arms outstretched, to the woman he loves, with nothing to lose? Singing la, la la la, la la laaaa”_ **

Hades had forced himself to appear stoic for so long, and could hide true his feelings no longer. He was once again approaching Orpheus before he even realized that his feet had started to move. Soon he was towering over the boy, but the anger that had reached critical mass just minutes before had vanished completely when met once more with the melody of his love, the sweet, simple notes he sang to win Persephone’s love millennia ago when he was young, had nothing else to give, and nothing to lose. It was now that Hades opened his mouth, his singing voice rusty with disuse, reading himself to repeat his melody back to the boy and the audience, all eyes were on him. Orpheus paused for the most fleeting of moments, and their eyes locked. Hades pressed a hand to his own cheek, and felt the unfamiliar warmth of tears streaming down his face, tears that had remained unshed for far too long.  ** _“Laaa, la la laaa, la la laaa”_ ** he finally sang in a voice so fragile that had the room not been holding its breath, it would have been missed entirely.

Hades felt a warm hand rest upon his shoulder, a familiar comfort, but one that had been absent from his life for the longest time. He reached up and took the hand in his, turning to face his wife.

Orpheus regarded the duo and nodded for the last time, no hint of malice or smug victory on his face, and all three of them finishing the simple tune in earnest:

** _“Laaa, la la laa la la laaa”_ **

Silence filled the chamber at last, and Hades turned to face his wife, having just shared a moment he had thought lost to time forever. Suddenly, the room around them dissolved, and the couple was back on earth, in the garden once more, learning what true love was again, for the first time. Hades felt a weight appear in his hand, and the lovers gasped as their gaze was met by the perfect bloom of a single red carnation, having appeared before them out of thin air. Dumbstruck, Hades rolled the curious plant between his fingers before offering it to his wife. Surely she must be responsible for something so pure and beholden to sunlight finding its way this far below the surface? She simply smiled and took the flower, only to return it to him by fastening it to his lapel, giving him complete ownership of this miraculous act. Hades just shrugged and took Persephone’s other hand in his, and without any fear of judgement by the audience that looked on, do you know what they did?

They danced.

Having been moved by Orpheus’ completed song, the rocks that made up the walls of Hadestown began to sing for all to hear, an accompaniment of ethereal orchestral music that could make the gods weep. Hades looked into his wife’s eyes in earnest, finding only a deep love between them for the first time since their silly feud began. No bitterness remained, having been washed away by the poet’s healing words. _ ‘This is how it should have always been,’ _ Hades thought,  _ ‘this is how it will be from now on’ _ and he swept Persephone into his arms, the two of them moving through a choreographed step sequence, as partners, as equals.

  
  
  


A grin spread across Persephone’s face as his hands found their way to her waist, and she ran her hand along his upper arm, caressing him as he dipped her and she let him. Trust allowing the two to express themselves with one another in a moment that transcended speech entirely.

Orpheus joined back in to accompany the earth’s song, strumming his lyre and reciting their love melody where he saw fit. His angelic voice floated through the air, and provided rhythm for their steps. The couple danced towards him, raising their arms above his head and lowering them down as they moved around him, briefly giving the impression that he was being embraced by the two gods in a wordless  _ ‘thanks’ _ before they stepped away.

When their dance finally ended, and the music died down to make way for silence once more, Persephone and Hades remained locked in a lover’s embrace, still ignorant to the world around them. Hades found that he could not bring himself to worry that Eurydice was approaching Orpheus once more, the whispers between the two mortals placed on the back burner for the time being. Nothing could ruin this precious moment between him and his wife, even the impending need to give Orpheus his answer. He gazed upon Persephone’s face and into the eyes that he had lost himself in so many years ago, but never sought to find his way out of, and beamed back at her. “I love you.” He finally said, hoping she could hear all the unspoken apologies and promises that permeated the three words.

“I know,” his wife responded “I love you too.”

Having finally torn down the walls they had foolishly built between themselves, Hades leaned down and met his wife’s lips in a searing kiss, which she answered with matching enthusiasm and intensity. All he ever really wanted was to be sure that his wife would return to him come Fall each year, and though he knew deep down that he would always struggle with feelings of doubt during the long months she was away, he chose to live truly in the present for the second time in his long life, and allowed himself to bask comfortably in this rare moment of complete certainty.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this one came from, I guess I just have a lot of feelings about Hades, and if I stare at my phone long enough, I start turning those feelings into fic.
> 
> P.s. Writing about dancing was actually really hard...


End file.
